


What happens in the Potions closet stays in the Potions closet

by mfingenius



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Claustrophobia, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 18:00:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16979250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mfingenius/pseuds/mfingenius
Summary: Thanks to living in a cupboard, Harry developed claustrophobia.It's fine, really; he just avoids small spaces at all costs. Having a wand and being able to make spaces bigger has really made that easier for him.However, when he gets trapped inside the Potions closet without his wand and none other than Draco Malfoy, what will happen?





	What happens in the Potions closet stays in the Potions closet

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this](https://potters-little-ferret.tumblr.com/post/181016565590/this-has-probably-been-done-before-but-imagine-if) tumblr prompt

“Oh, this is great.” Draco sneers, pushing harder at the door. “Really, it’s just perfect.”

It’s all he needed, really, to get locked in the fucking Potions storage closet with Potter. As if it wasn’t cramped enough being here by himself, Potter had come in because Draco was taking too long and accidentally kicked away the trunk that held the door open, making the damned door had closed and the rusty lock fall into place, leaving both of their wands outside.

“Malfoy,” Potter says.

“Merlin, and with  _you_  of all people,” he mutters to himself.

“Malfoy.” Potter sounds oddly strangled.

“You just had to come in, didn’t you?” Draco snarls. “Couldn’t bloody-”

“ _Malfoy_.” The urgency in Potter’s voice makes him look at him, finally, and he finds Potter pale and shaking.

“Err,” he says, caught by surprise.

“We need to get out of here.” Potter says. His voice is beginning to shake, as are his hands when he raises them to push at the door. “I - I need to get out of here, I can’t - it’s too small, I need to get out, let me out, please-”

And it’s dark and Draco can’t see much, but he thinks Potter might be crying, and that scares Draco more than he’d thought it would.

“Potter!” Draco says, heart pounding in his chest. Potter looks at him, and though they’re the same height and Draco thinks (though he’d never admit to anyone) that Potter might be more powerful than him, he looks impssibly small and terrified, and Draco feels the urge to wrap his arms around him. “Are you okay?”

“No!” Potter says. “I need to get out of here, please, I can’t - I can’t be stuck here again, I can’t breathe, I need to get out-”

Draco doesn’t know what Potter means by  _again_ , but he shakes his head nonetheless.

“Potter, stop.” He says. No one’s coming for them, not for Merlin knows how long.

Snape had left them alone in detention and had said he’d be checking on their potions periodically, but Draco doesn’t know when he’ll be back, and he can’t have Potter freaking out. He doesn’t know why, but he grabs his hand when he speaks.

“Come on. Sit down.”

Potter’s still shaking like a leaf when Draco manages to get him to sit down on an old trunk, and he sits next to him, limbs tangled together because of the lack of space.

“It’s fine.” He says. “We’re fine. It’s…” he looks around. “A little bit cramped, yes, but we’re fine. Okay? See?” He places one of Potter’s hand awkwardly on his chest. “I’m breathing. You are, too.” Much too quickly, though, from what Draco can feel against his side. “Come on. Try to match the pace.”

“I - I can’t-” Potter begins, and Draco smiles tremolously.

“Of course you can.” He says. “Come on, deep breath.” He inhales. “Inhale.” He holds it for a few seconds, and then exhales. “Exhale.”

It takes a few minutes, but Potter begins to match his breathing, hand clutching tightly at the front of Draco’s shirt.

“See?” He says. “It’s fine. We’re going to be fine.”

Only then does he notice that his arms are around the other boy, locked in a somewhat uncomfortable hug, but a hug nonetheless.

“What if no one comes?” Potter asks, voice somewhat steadier but still terrified.

It’s ridiculous. Of course someone will come, they’d notice if they don’t turn up in their common rooms at night. Still, he doesn’t think that statement would make Potter feel better, so he tries to be humorous about it.

“Snape is a pestering bastard.” He says. “And he hates you, yeah? He’d never let us get away with staying in his precious storage closet.”

Potter manages a shaky smile. “Yeah. Yes.”

He doesn’t sound like he believes him, so Draco tries another approach.

“And hey, if he doesn’t, worse than can happen is that we have to break down the door, right?” He says. He’s pretty sure that it’s magically warded against that, but he’s not about to tell Potter that. “I’ll let you do it, and you can impress the Weaslette with your big heroic moment.”

Potter’s smile seems a bit more real now. “You’ll  _let_  me.”

“Yes.” Draco says petulantly. “I’ll  _let_  you, because we both know that otherwise your little fan club would adore me instead of you.”

Potter makes a little amused sound and shakes his head.

They both hear the lock, and Potter springs to his feet, nearly knocking Draco flat on his arse.

As soon as the door is open, Potter darts out, shoving Snape aside and taking panicked, heaving breaths, gripping the edge of the table tightly.

“What is the meaning of this?” Shape asks. “Potter, did you-”

“It was me.” Draco says. “I wasn’t looking, and I kicked the trunk.”

Snape casts him a suspicious look.

“The potion is ruined.” He says. “Detention, both of you, again. Next Saturday.”

Draco rolls his eyes discreetly.

“And leave, now. Straight to your common rooms.”

And Potter practically flies out the door.

* * *

Harry waits for nearly two days for everyone to find out about his anxiety attack on the Potions closet.

When, at the third day, nothing happens, he asks Malfoy about it during Herbology.

Malfoy gives him an incredulous look. “Are you seriously asking me why I haven’t told anyone? Would you rather I  _had_?”

“Of course not!” Harry snaps. “I just- it’s unlike you.”

Malfoy gives him a sneer, but it’s nowhere near its usual sharpness.

“Well, Potter.” He says archly. “Maybe you don’t know me as well as you thought you did.”

And as he walks away, Harry can’t help but think that no, maybe he doesn’t.


End file.
